


Trinkets Long Forgotten

by lady_macgyver



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_macgyver/pseuds/lady_macgyver
Summary: The Doctor was able to take away the memories, but he was unable to remove everything that made them.





	Trinkets Long Forgotten

Grunting, Donna stood on her toes as she grappled with an overly large box on the top shelf. Hissing as the box shifted in her hands and jerked down on her chest. Glaring at the offending object and eased it onto the floor. The flap was open, little trinkets glittering in the mess of what looked like journals. Dragging it near the bed, she flopped down and wiped sweat from her forehead.

Rifling through the journals, she quirked her lips as she read through snippets. They were from her time before Lance, her time _with_ Lance. Shaking her head, Donna darted a tongue over her lips and frowned as she read the word Doctor over and over again. Too often she tried to remember the years that were missing, but after one too many starburst headaches, she decided it wasn’t worth it anymore.

Flicking through one of the journals, she stopped at a loose piece of paper. Watching it flutter to the ground, she slid off the bed and stared. The writing seemed to swim, the numbers spiky where she assumed they would be curled. A little headache was beginning to form as she blinked rapidly.

No name was attached but the sense of familiarity was alarming. She _knew_ this number, had it ingrained somewhere, some _how_ in the back of her mind. A drop fell onto the paper and she started, touching her face. Tears streaked down her face and she took in a shuddering breath, wondering when she starting crying.

A piece of her past. There wasn’t much of that around anymore; her mother had saw to that. Pictures and trinkets were replaced with stock photos and new memories. Taking in one more breath, she thought of shoving the number back into the journal and binning it, just like everything else from the past few years had been.

Instead, she jerked up, kicking the box. This was a piece of her past and even if she didn’t remember it, she was damn sure she was going to see who was on the other end.

Fumbling for her mobile, she pushed in the numbers quickly. When it rang, she sunk her teeth into her lower lip and began to swirl her hair into a curl.

“Hello?”

The voice broke through the fog that had settled and she felt as though she were in an echo chamber.

“Is anyone there?”

“H-hello?” she whispered, tugging at the curl.

“Donna,” he heard someone – the _man_ – rush out in a breath. “No, **no** , h-how, but, just, **_no_**.”

Startled, she heard her choke out a sob and she slapped a hand over her mouth. A starburst began behind her eyes and she felt her breath quicken. There was stardust in that voice, even though it was faint and frantic. The infinite possibilities made her feel like she was going at light speed, even though she was standing still.

“I know you,” Donna heard herself say. “I _know_ you, but I have no idea who you are. Why don’t I know who you are?”

She could hear the blood rushing to her head and she began to sway. “Who are you?”

“You shouldn’t be calling me,” he, the man, whoever **he** was, was rushing out. Something was dinging, something was clanging, and Donna crumpled to the ground.

Closing her eyes, she felt hands on her, blessedly cool, and she could smell her mother’s perfume. “You’re burning up!”

“Donna!” this time the man was screaming, but he sound so tinny, so far away. “Donna, hold on! I’m on my way!”

Bending at the waist, her forehead touching the floor, Donna sobbed, but she trusted the voice, more than anything, she trusted that voice.


End file.
